


This Heart

by FalovesPa



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalovesPa/pseuds/FalovesPa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Thorin washes the blood out of your hair in a river after an Orc attack, and admits his feelings for you because he's upset that you got involved</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Heart

**Author's Note:**

> damâm rukhs = Khuzdul for "Orc blood" || Genre(s): romance, fluff, humor || Spa bowls photo credit: {x} By (WT-shared) Johnycanal at wts wikivoyage (Own work) || Note: my head canon is that the Elves have some great spa & hair care products :)

The stench of Orc blood was foulness incarnate. 

The thought of your perfect beauty playing host to it turned the strong stomach of even a seasoned warrior like Thorin Oakenshield.

But he could never say that to you. That would be lecherous and corny.

What he did was bring you to the  _thurin lanthir_ in Rivendell just before dinner  - Elrond’s “secret waterfall,” which was not so secret after Thorin overheard a couple of the Elf's attendants, the same ones who brought you some fresh clothes, discussing all the scented elements they'd left for their lord’s evening bath. 

When they caught the bitter-looking Dwarf stranger eavesdropping, they finished their discussion in Sindarin. But by then Thorin had heard everything he needed to know.

He led you down the tree-lined path that he'd seen the two aides travel, telling you that on no uncertain terms could you could sit with the Elves smelling like... _that_.

  


 

And within a few minutes, clamoring down a few steep, shaded, trails, he found it. Possessing a clear, diamond quality, the waterfall poured from the side of a stony hillside and into a river, which gifted crafters had partially edged with a limestone ledge.

You set your new clothes on the edge and swooned, taking in the wonder of it all.

But all Thorin saw was water to clean the  _damâm rukhs_ from your hair. 

He stayed behind a bush while you disrobed and got in the water, appearing only after he heard you splash.

“Lean back so I can get you wet," he said. 

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. 

He started over.

"So I can  _get the hair on your head wet_. Where your skull is.”

You chuckled quietly as you stood collarbone-high in the shallow end of the water, while Thorin sat on the ledge next to luxurious flower-filled bowls and lotions, as well as a bevy of soaps, hair cleansers, fancy creams, hydrating oils, and several soft washing cloths and a rolled-up bath towel in a large basket. 

  


 

How many smell-goods did this Elrond chap need? Thorin wondered. 

You leaned your head back so Thorin could cup some water in his hands and pour it over your head. You closed your eyes as the warmth pushed the dark red-black thick droplets of blood from your strands and into the water where they magically disappeared.

Once your hair was completely wet, he applied a white cream in the basket to your hair, working it in gradually, from roots to ends. The substance reminded him of a product he used as a young prince to give his hair shine and volume.

“Mmm. Smells like raspberries,” you cooed.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You opened your eyes and smiled at his nonchalant, and probably untrue, response. 

“What _do_  you know, Thorin?”

“I know up until three seconds ago, your hair smelled quite offensive.”

“Agreed. What else?”

Thorin placed one hand against the back of your neck and told you to ease back. He dipped your hair in the miraculously immaculate water to rinse out the cream. using his other hand to comb through your hair. 

You sat up straight after he released you. Then he reached for a small silver pitcher of thick, clear liquid that smelled like the first and dribbled it over your shining hair.

  


 

{[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8U1i2D334mc)}

“Well,” he said, beginning to work the sweet wash into a mild lather, “I thought I knew to trust you.”

You turned to him suddenly and he pulled his hands away.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about!” he said, his voice elevated. “I trusted you to stay back, away from that fight. I told you time and again: STAY BACK. Hide! I thought you were safe with Gandalf! But  _no,_  you didn’t do it! So now your beautiful hair is sprayed with this vulgar blood!”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself - to remind him that he and Dwalin had trained you well with your new axe and how you were ready for those Orcs. But he was still barking.

“And what’s worse than you reeking is the fact that you could have been killed!” 

At that, he got up and began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. “Do you know what that would have done to this company, to this quest, to this heart?”

Your breathing turned into a harsh huff, making you momentarily sound like you were choking.

You were stunned, to say the least.

Thorin just stared at you, nose flaring, his own chest heaving at the super corny way he revealed his feelings for you.

You motioned for him. “Come here.”

He begrudgingly stomped back over to the stony edge, his face frozen in a troubled frown.

You leaned back and rinsed your hair with your fingers.

“Please finish,” you said.

Thorin sighed and searched the full basket, so distracted by his inane confession and your lack of response to it that all the pretty little containers began to look the same. You reached for a small gold tin in the corner of the basket and handed it to him.

“I think we end with this one,” you said, your back to him. "Looks like a leave-in conditioner."

Thorin sneered.  _A what?_

He unscrewed the top and massaged the silky, light conditioner into your hair.

“Haven’t you anything to say?” he asked finally. Your icy silence could murder a person.

You ran your fingers through your hair before turning around.

“Well?!” he said nervously.

 _Calm down_ , you told yourself.  _Just say it._

“Thorin, I won’t stop fighting." You gulped quickly. "But I will never stop loving you.”

 _Brilliant_ , you thought. There was enough corn in that statement to make a hearty chowder.

Thorin clenched his jaw, offered just the faintest hint of a smile, then stood back and pulled out the large towel from the basket. He held it open for you, nice and high.

"Well?!" you said impatiently.

“It’s time for dinner,” he said. 

Oh no he didn’t just ignore your confession! As you had ignored his...

You stepped out and wrapped yourself in the towel.

He sniffed the air as you became shrouded in the plush fabric.

“That  _is_ a raspberry smell,” he said, pleased.

“Hmf! I thought you wouldn’t know!”

Thorin placed his fingers on your chin and made you look at him.

“I know I will protect you for as long as I live.” He kissed the top of your forehead. "My sweet, lovely and capable warrior."

Your whole face glowed. “Even covered in Orc blood?”

Thorin shuddered and gagged a little.

“If you’re covered in Orc blood, I haven’t protected you very well.” He pulled on the edges of the towel. “But if you’re covered in raspberries...”

"Oh, shut up!" 

You hurriedly embraced him and kissed him before either he or you had a chance to say anything else corny.


End file.
